And Life Goes On
by stripesthetiger11
Summary: Twenty passengers embark on an expedition to find an idol hidden away for centuries in foreign lands. While it seems like smooth sailing at first, things soon spiral out of control upon finding the statue. Was this some kind of curse. These strangers have to not only deal with the death of their own, but also each other. Will they ever see home again? Hope only goes so far.
1. All Aboard!

**A/N: Quick note, this story will go on based on the reviews I get or if people actually want me to continue it. By the way, these characters are humans with animal features and traits (for example, having antlers or eating more meat due to being carnivores). Most characters in this story don't know each other. This story is bound to get real dark in future chapters, as well, but it's Happy Tree Friends. It's already dark. Oh, and I do not own Happy Tree Friends, but I wasted a shooting star wish on getting mini Lifty and Shifty, so that's something. That is all. Enjoy.**

Sniffles looked over his roster for the sixteenth time that day, pacing back and forth to make sure everything was taken into account. He had been so worried about the flow of the future trip that he had checked the names of the crew at least twelve times and called the captain of the boat a total of five times. Just to make sure there weren't any flukes. You can call him paranoid, but he didn't care. This expedition wasn't just important to him, it would be a defining moment in his career as an archeologist. He checked through his bag to make sure he had everything he needed for the journey and made a quick scanning of his house to make sure everything was locked up and that nothing would burn down the house whilst he was away.

While checking the bathroom, he was able to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He scoffed at the ruffled appearance of his light blue hair and rushed to straighten it back into a more professional style. Sniffles was an anteater, and that fact alone didn't get him much respect. With a large, bushy, prehensile tail combed to the best of his ability and oval shaped ears that stuck out of his hair in a neat manner, he would've looked rather professional and serious, had it not been for his youthful looks and his light blue fur. He wore regular khaki pants and a baby blue dress shirt, complete with a pen holder on the left side of said shirt, filled with three different colored pens and a pencil. Fitting perfectly on his nose and defining his soft blue eyes were a pair of dark blue glasses, the bridge between the two frames being held together by a thin piece of tape due to him once tripping over his own tail. Although he wouldn't admit it, he knew he looked like the biggest nerd to ever grace the Earth. The fact that his shirt was tucked in didn't help.

After his miniature style session in the bathroom, he then went back to see of his map was marked correctly. The map was marked to show the path of the voyage. The trip would only be about two weeks time, give or take a few days. The sooner he got off the boat of some simple minded volunteers, the better. But who knows what would happen. The voyage was going to a recently discovered island way off the shore of South America. The only reason it hadn't been discovered until recently is because of how far away it was located from the main land. When it was said that there were large, Mayan-like temples seen around the center of the island. Archaeologists everywhere were scrambling to pull together an expedition to be the first to explore the island. Sniffles was one of those people, and fortunately for him, he was prepared. He quickly rounded up his colleagues and they were able to get some people to sign up as volunteers. He didn't have the funds to actually hire people, only enough to afford renting a ship, which was why few signed up in the first place. Those who did decide to tag along either did it for experience, potential fame and fortune, or just for the adventure of it all.

A quick check of the time on his watch was what finally got him to exit his home. After making sure he had locked the door twice, he hurried to the bus stop. There was no need to use his car and risk it being stolen when he was gone. The bus driver was a bit rude, but it was nothing to get him worked up over. He quickly sat in the first empty seat available, not taking notice of the people on either side of him. With his bag resting in his lap, he stressfully drummed his fingers on his seat.

As the bus continued on its usual rout, Sniffles began to check his papers again to see if he had everything correct and in order. It wasn't long before he realized that one of his neighbors was looking over at his work. He tried to ignore it, but the stranger only leaned in closer to peek at the papers. Agitated, he glared at the man to his right. The curious neighbor was a moose, guessing from the shape of his antlers, one of which was twisted upside down. His hair was similar in color to Sniffles, but was much shorter and unkempt, standing out against his peach skin. Another very noticeable feature was how tall he was, towering over the scientist by at least a foot. He wore a plain blue plaid button-up shirt and a pair of dirtied blue jeans, all being topped off by dark blue handkerchief tied around his neck to make a triangle shape on his front. Sniffles continued to glare at the man, but said person only continued to look at the papers, confusion prominent in his nursery blue eyes. "Can I help you?" the anteater asked as politely as he could. The moose looked up, seemingly startled at the sudden voice speaking to him. It took a moment to register, but a deep-voiced response soon arrived. "Help? Naw, I'm fine. You sure need help, though." Eyebrows were raised. "Me? Now why would you assume that?" the scientist asked. The moose didn't need to think this one over. "Well you've got all those papers in your hands. All that paper must mean you're doing important stuff, and important stuff is always hard, you know?"

Sniffles' look of puzzlement turned to one of annoyance. Out of all the people he had to sit by, it was some simple-minded moose that couldn't keep his antlers out of other people's business. Now, usually he would've made an intelligent and somewhat witty remark or even tried to explain his situation, but today was just not his kind of day.

When the moose realized that his new bus buddy wasn't going to respond, he took it as a sign of agreement and kept talking. "So where you going? Work? To town? To a friend's house? I'm going fishing! And with a lot of people! It's going to be great! You should come, if you want. Take your mind off all that work and-"

Sniffles let out a barely audible groan, looking around desperately for somewhere else to sit. He couldn't take this man's mindless chatter anymore. He began to rise when be felt an hand on his shoulder

"Take a chill man. If he's bothering you, just don't listen."

He stopped and looked back not at the moose, but the other neighbor he interestingly forgot to notice. Interesting because the man to his left looked like he had just traveled in time from a 1970's disco club. He had it all: the sparkly yellow long-sleeved shirt with the top few buttons undone and popped out, the matching bell bottoms, the large orange platform shoes that only seemed suitable on promiscuous women, and, of course, the largest afro he'd ever seen in the purest of orange, all complete with sideburns and a thin gold chain around his neck. He couldn't even tell what animal the man was, as any ears he had were covered up. The baritone voice and obvious potbelly were very uncomfortable, and the laid-back expression on his somewhat pale face wasn't helping at all.

Sniffles, by all accounts, wasn't about to take advice from a yellow Tony Manero. Somehow though, those lidded tangerine eyes were somehow able to convince him to sit back down. The disco fanatic smiled and gave him a pat on the back. "There you go, my man. Don't let that bozo get to ya. Good?" The scientist nodded. "Groovy." Well that's a word he hadn't heard in years. Just great.

The drive to the docks was a twenty minute one, and boy was it stressful. Between trying to ignore the moose's never ending chatter and the disco's constant humming of old club songs, Sniffles thought he would have an attack of some sort. The driver nearly missed the stop, but thanks to the anteater's frantic shouting, Sniffles was able to get off safe and sound. To his surprise, the nuisances that sat beside him got off the bus as well. He turned to look at them. "So I can assume you two are together?" The disco's brow raised and his shoulders rose and slumped. "From what I got from the man here, yeah. We both signed up for that exploring trip."

Sniffles blinked in surprise. "Wait, what are your names?" he asked as he took out his roster and looked through the names. Lumpy and Disco Bear, they claimed. It takes no effort to point out which was which. Eyes shifted over the list of names, and sure enough, there was their names near the top of the list. He held back a groan and gave an encouraging smile. "Well it's good to have you on the team," he said in a barely there, shaky voice. How had he failed to see the bags slung over their shoulders?

Ignoring his visual mistake, he turned around and surveyed the area. His gaze shifted around the docks, looking here and there for any sign of life, aside from the standard sea bird. He huffed when he realized he was the only one there. Then again, he did arrive two hours early.

Just to be safe.

The only indicator of it being the pickup spot was the large wooden sailing ship that was docked at one of the larger ports. It was quite big, looking to hold fifty people at most excluding cargo, perfect for the small-scale trip. Scrawled across the side of the ship in big cursive letters was 'Blue Pearl'. He wasn't all that thrilled to see that the ship was entirely wooden; a hazard incase there were any smokers on board. He spotted a makeshift board that made a ramp from the dock to the ship and promptly used it to climb onto the ship. Onboard, he was surprised to finally see the captain for the first time. Of course, he had talked with him before over the phone, and he had assumed that the man in question was somewhat uneducated, but he hadn't known to what extent.

The captain was a sea otter, that much was obvious. His flat, beaver-like tail lied flat on the dirty ship floor whilst his ears were hidden snugly under a large black pirate hat, which adorned a picture of a skull and crossbones. What gave his species away was how he was eating mussels as he walked to and fro around the ship. His fur was a surprisingly clean turquoise, and his matching hair was somewhat unkempt and still long enough as to where it was put in a small ponytail. His skin was a nice olive tan, showing off all the time he'd spent in the sun. His clothes were worse than the state of the ship. His red and white striped shirt was dirtied to the point of where the white seemed to be a yellowish color, and there were many rips along the sleeves and the opening. His fitting pants were also in a somewhat tattered condition, but any dirt was almost invisible due to the article being black. Draped across his shoulders was a sort of dark blue cape lined with gold designs; it was the only thing about him that seemed visually appealing.

The captain heard Sniffles call to him, he turned to greet him, giving the anteater another reason why this was a bad idea. He wore an eyepatch over his right eye, leaving his shining sea-green lefty to be his only way to see. His left hand was not even there, instead being replaced by a hook, and his lower legs were replaced by wooden pegs. These fake limbs elevated him to tower of the younger man. Besides the obvious disabilities, Sniffles noticed in his features that he seemed to be of eastern descent. It was faint, but definitely there.

Sniffles gave a reluctant sigh, being unable to force a smile on his face when greeting the friendly otter. Despite his visible displeasure, the otter seemed to just ignore it when he introduced himself.

"Ahoy! The name be Russell! Yer that Sniffles lad, aren't cha?"

Sniffles, to say the least, wasn't happy. When he thought he has booked a reliable man to work with to guide the ship, the captain turns out to be some washed up flimsy swashbuckler who didn't even have all of his limbs and had the same education and respectability as that of an oil rag.

No offense to oil rags.

If Russell noticed the anteater's lack of words and reluctance to even show a bit of gratitude, he didn't seem to care. He pat Sniffles' shoulder reassuringly, earning a displeased look, and turned him around to look at the two who just appeared.

Sniffles was startled to see what he first thought was a clown. But it wasn't a clown. It was much worse.

The first man seemed to be around Sniffles' age. His hair was a soothing lavender and was surprisingly well kept. His face was absolutely smothered in white make up, purple markings being apparent here and there to define his mauve eyes and such. There was so much make up and clothing that Sniffles couldn't even see what color his skin was, He wore a white and purple striped sweater and donned pure white gloves on his hands. His pants and shoes were a simple black and the large antlers that emerged from his head were proof enough of him being a stag. The makeup, the exaggerated movement, the refusal to even speak a word; the only thing that made mimes even remotely bearable was that they didn't tell jokes. The mime smiled and waved at the anteater. Sniffles ignored it and looked at the second man.

This orange haired male seemed normal enough. With a matching orange beaver tail, soft yellow eyes, and adorning a yellow hard hat on his head, he looked normal from the chest up. His attire was simple: a wife beater, dirty blue jeans, and some steel-toed boots. Unfortunately, his arms happened to stop at the elbows. Bandages were wrapped around the amputated stumps, but other than that, he seemed pretty normal.

Sniffles' grimace was more than apparent. He looked over the roster, then looked at Russell. He gave a gent tugging of the otter's sleeve; a sign that he wanted to speak to him without the company of others. Russell obliged and they moved a few feet behind a few crates of supplies.

"Russell, you never told me you were bringing extra people along. They never signed up for the expedition!" Sniffles hissed under his breath. Russell scoffed. "Calm yerself, laddie. They ain't messin' up yer expedition. Me boy Mime is here ta lead my girl here while I take the night off." Sniffles took a quick glance around. "Your girl?" he questioned, raising a brow. The pirate tapped the railing of the ship with his hook. "'Ol Pearl here ain't steering herself," he said with a bit of pride in his voice.

Sniffles took a glance at the deer from behind the crates. Mime was doing strand bodily motions, trying to tell the beaver something, but he just wasn't understanding.

"HE can steer a ship?" Sniffles asked incredulously. Russell gave a shrug. "He ain't any Morgan I've ever seen, but he knows how to steer 'er right. Made sure o' that! As for Handy o'er there-" Sniffles visibly cringed at the pure irony of the name. "He's here ta fix 'er up if she ends goin' belly up."

Sniffles peered from behind the crates, but this time at the beaver. "HIM?" Sniffles asked, a bit louder than necessary. Russell nodded. "Can fix 'er right up." He was given another incredulous look. "But he's a double amputee!" the anteater exclaimed through gritted teeth, exasperated. Russell merely raised a one of his wooden legs and tapped the crate with it. "And I be missin' three of me limbs. Now, go play nice. Yer gonna be stuck together fer a week 'r two, ya hear?"

And with that, Russell turned and began to walk away, but stopped after a few feet. Without even turning to meet the anteater's gaze, he lightly tapped the railing of his beloved ship lightly. "'Nd just so ye know, lad, yer on my vessel. It be 'Captain' to you."

Sniffles grumbled as he watched the sea otter go and greet Disco Bear and Lumpy. He stepped away from the cargo, fully aware that he was being watched. He walked up to the odd pair and shook the deer's hand. "Sniffles," he says. He nodded to Handy as a greeting. "A pleasure to meet you both. And it's nice to know this voyage's end won't be premature." Mime smiled and did a few bodily motions, one of which looked like he was playing golf. Handy just chuckled and shook his head. "Well it's good to be here. It's been a while since I've had any work. If you need me, I'll be checking the supplies."

Sniffles watched Handy turn and enter one of the open door that led to the interior of the ship. He noticed the mime hadn't left along with him, and was in fact still staring at him. He took a glance at Mime's smiling face and said, "Aren't you going to help him?" He was replied with crouching and what looked like imitation cleaning the floor. "Yeeeaaaah..." Sniffles muttered uneasily, "You go do that. I'm going to greet the other passangers."

Quickly hurrying away from the clown, Sniffles was able to to get off the ship just as another man looked to be getting ready to step on. He gazed at the other man curiously, having not expected to have a veteran onboard the expedition.

The man was a bear. His hair was a soft mint green that he let grow out into a sort of shaggy state and his eyes were like two circular emeralds. His skin was surprisingly pale, for he looked well built enough to assume he'd spent considerable time outside. He wore some loose fitting blue jeans and an army styled jacket over a plain white t-shirt. His black combat boots looked big enough to crush a watermelon, as he had regrettably noted. What proved that he was actually a veteran was the green beret that he wore snugly on his head, as it bore the crest of their nation's flag. Sniffles also noticed the arrow pattern sewn onto each arm, a pattern which identified his as a sergeant. This was especially shocking, as he looked to be around the anteater's age. The silver dog tags around his neck that had his name engraved into it, which gave Sniffles all the information he required.

"You must be Flippy," he said, sticking out his hand. The bear smiled shook his hand, saying, "And you must be that scientist I keep hearing about. Sniffles, right?" The anteater nodded appreciatively and looked over the roster. "Alright. Go ahead and get onboard. Others should be here soon."

As Flippy went onboard with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, Sniffles kept an eye out until he spotted two more people approaching. One of them he recognized, but the other he didn't.

Giggles was a pink chipmunk, and a nice one at that. Everything she wore was some shade of red or pink. Her hair was a light shade of bubble gum and was styled in a bob cut. She had beige toned skin and her eyes shone hot pink. The short sleeved blouse she wore was so pale in color, it was almost white, while the long skirt she wore was of a much darker shade. To top it all off, she had a large scarlet bow atop her head. Resting comfortably in her arms was a small light gray puppy, sound asleep and fidgeting here and there. There were splotches of white here and there: on the belly, the left ear, the left eye, and the tip of the tail. Sniffles grimaced at the sight of the dog, as it was something he didn't account for.

The boy next to Giggles wasn't so charmingly dressed like her. With a large yellow hoodie and some loose fitting blue jeans, he looked more fitting at a skate park than standing on the docks. His somewhat neat/somewhat messy hair was just a few shades darker than his hoodie and his eyes shone the yellow you would see at a traffic light. The two large hare ears that stuck out of his head were a bit lopsided and lazily bent over themselves. Slung on both his shoulders were bags most likely filled with clothes and other necessities. Sniffles found him to be a bit unprofessional, but then again, it was Giggles with the dog in her arms.

"Giggles!" Sniffles greeted before turning to the young man, "And friend..." The rabbit raised an eye questioningly, but his mouth held a playful smirk, a visual sign of his good humor. "Cuddles," he said, shaking the blue one's hand. "Sniffles, right? Giggles tells me all about how much of a nerd-" a quick smack to the arm "- I mean how much of a genius you are." Sniffles, despite having a much lower sense of humor, merely passed the little slip up off as a joke. He looked over his roster and spotted the name 'Cuddles' near the top.

"Glad you could join in our expedition. Check in with the captain to see which room you'll be staying in." "How will we know which one is the captain?" Cuddles asked. Sniffles merely gave a strained chuckle, before saying, "Trust me, you'll know when you see him." The rabbit merely shrugged and boarded the ship. Giggles smiled at her friend. "I want to thank you again, Sniffles. You know I need the money."

Her acquaintance returned the kind expression. "It's my pleasure. Just do your part and there won't be any problems. Of course, there is one question I must ask..." Giggles knew exactly what he was about to say. "I know, and I'm sorry about Whistle," she confessed. "We just couldn't find someone who was willing to watch over him while we were gone. I promise, he won't cause any trouble!"

Sniffles thought her beg over. Of course he wasn't going to let her bring that mutt onto the ship. He didn't care about whose feeling it hurt, as this trip was way too important to be ruined by a mutt. He had every intention of refusing, but once she flashed those big begging eyes at him, be found himself nodding in agreement. Giggles gave him a quick hug and boarded the ship and towards her boyfriend, only to be intercepted by Disco Bear. Flirts were thrown from the bear, only to be ignored and have him left hanging. Instead of laughing at the funny encounter, Sniffles could only worry more. Tension among passengers was one of the last things he wanted.

Due to it being so early, it took half an hour for anyone else to show up. The first two to make their way onto the docks were twins. As they approached Sniffles, he got a strange feeling about them. He could tell just by they way they walked and talked with each other that they were up to no good. However, they dressed quite nicely, something that only enhanced the uneasy feeling simmering in his gut.

To start off, they looked identical to each other, even in the clothes they wore. They both had unkempt green and somewhat tan skin. Their pointed ears, dark green markings around their eyes, and long bushy tails ringed with forrest green identified them as raccoons. Both wore white dress shirts with ties that matched the color of their masks, though the shirts were untucked into their black pants and the ties were loose. Also strange were the gloves they wore; dark green and covering their entire hands. That sure raised an eyebrow or two. The only other similarity they shared were the same black dress shoes that didn't show a hint of wear. The only thing telling them apart was a beige fedora, which rested snugly on the head of the right twin, concealing his ears. Instead of carrying backpacks or duffle bags, each one carried a brown suitcase.

Sniffles gulped down his nervousness as they approached him, but to his surprise, they just passed right by him to board the ship. His shock didn't last long though, as he recovered in time to yell out, "Wait! Hold on just a minute!" The raccoons stopped in their tracks and turned to look at him. Both looked over him, as if evaluating if he was even worth talking to. The hatless raccoon's face then split into a wide grin, and his brother's expression followed suit.

Both men approached him. "Snuffles, right?" the one with the fedora asked, the grin never leaving his face. "Sniffles," the anteater corrected. "Nah," the plain one denied, "It's gotta be Snuffles." The first one gave the blue haired man a playful pinch to the cheek. "Yeah, you sure look like a Snuffles. You sure you don't wanna change your name or somethin'? Sniffles ain't exactly somethin' to be proud of." The man in question merely smacked the hand away and ignored their play whilst he looked over his clipboard.

"You two must be Lifty and Shifty," he concluded.

"He's Lifty," said the fedora, pointing to his brother.

"And he's Shifty," said the plain, gesturing to his sibling.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," he said with a sigh. "Just don't cause any trouble, okay?"

The twins gave each other mischievous grins. A strange giggle/laugh came from closed teeth, a mix of "tee hee hee hee" and "heh heh heh" with a bit of the "we're so gonna mug this guy" vibe thrown in for good measure. Hopefully this laugh was only temporary, as it was going to get old real fast.

Sniffles was tempted to ask if there was anything he should know about, but then decided he would handle it if it became a problem. "Go on in. The captain will inform you as to where you will be sleeping." The two nodded and boarded the ship together.

Right away another man ran in front of Sniffles and stopped just before him. The anteater's jaw dropped in bewilderment as he looked around the docks, wondering where he had come from. Had he been hiding behind the twins? Or had he really just ran up there while he wasn't looking? The latter seemed more likely, as this man looked ready to run- no, sprint a marathon. He was nearly bouncing off the walls with his consistent twitching and jittering.

The man was a lime green squirrel. His hair, with streaks of yellow-green in the middle, was in tangles as something sticky was holding its ruined shape. His tail was in a similar state, but this time the chunks of candy were visible between the knots. His skin was a light tan splattered with a sticky sheen. He wore a lime green hoodie with various candies printed on the front. loose black jeans, and some white sneakers, all of which look like they've been rubbed down with candy. Under one arm was a duffle bag, also sticky and with a wrapper or two stuck between the zippers. At one point, Sniffles noticed the squirrel had heterochromia iridum, or two different colored irises in English. The right eye was a soft yellow-green, while the left was a neon green and rested lazily at the bottom of the socket. Despite this, the man had an expression of childishness and carefreeness.

"Nutty!" the squirrel said, rushed to the point of misinterpretation. Nutty was indeed the word for this man. In all his years, Sniffles had never seen a man so...

"Nutty!" the man repeated again, the goofy look expression on his face slowly turning into impatience.

Bizarre. That's what he was. Completely bizarre.

"It's Nutty!"

Did this man have Tourettes of some sort? Was he mentally ill? Maybe he was lost, and confused this place with a candy convention.

"Nutty! N-U-T-T-Y! Don't tell me I'm not on the list!"

"Oh!" Sniffles spurt out in realization. "That's your name! Oh, my apologies." He quickly spotted the squirrel on the roster. "Go on ahead."

The silly smile returned to Nutty's face as he giggled and quickly rushed onboard. Sniffles was seriously starting to rethink this trip. This idea would only be hammered in more with the next two passengers.

The first indication that he shouldn't even let the two on the ship was how one was guiding the other. The guide himself was someone Sniffles knew, and had worked with him on several different occasions. The acquaintance was a purple beaver. His skin was the shade of mocha, his eyes shone a hot lavender, and his curly purple hair was fell over head limply. His attire was quite simple: some khaki cargo pants, a purple t-shirt, and some black sneakers. One of the more noticeable features of the man were the large front teeth that slightly protruded from his upper lip, giving him a more silly look on his face. Many made jokes about the size if his chompers, but Sniffles found it to be a unique trait, just like the obvious dimples in beaver's cheeks. Resting on his shoulders were two large bags, one for himself and one for his friend. The friend himself was the main focus of attention.

When a man or a woman carries a cane, no matter what it's used for, it always meant they were crippled. However, identifying a blind man was almost too easy. Seeing that red tipped white stick click across the wooden floor of the dock brought a wave of hopelessness into Sniffles' system. The way the locks of his soft lavender hair formed together neatly told how he cared for his appearance, but the blackened round glasses he wore also showed how he could 't even see his own appearance. The deep purple turtle neck he wore hid his mouth from view, and the black pants and shoes weren't revealing anything either. Like the twins from earlier, the man also wore gloves, dark purple to be exact. The only his nose upwards were unhidden by clothing, besides his eyes of course. This view allowed Sniffles to see a large mole that was apparent on the right side if his nose. Despite all this, it was still hard to identify the species of animal this man was. All that hinted to it were two rounded purple ears that poked out from his hair. Maybe he was a guinea pig or some sort of rodent.

"Toothy," Sniffles greeted to the familiar man. "It's so good to have you on this expedition. And who is your friend?" The beaver quickly understood the message.

"Yeah, I suppose I should've called you about it before hand," Toothy apologized. "You suppose?" Sniffles questioned, his brow raised. His friend's chuckle was strained. "Sniffles, this is The Mole. He's a friend of mine."

Sniffles' eyes roamed over the blind man. "The Mole? As in the animal or the blemish?" he asked, half jokingly. Toothy merely laughed him off. "Anyways, I told him about the little voyage and he was interested in it. He decided to tag along. That's okay, right?"

Sniffles was about to outright refuse this man entrance, but something inside was telling him to just leave them be. The Mole might've been as useful as an armless construction worker, but a little voice called pity gripped the anteater by the heart. The man looked fairly young for a blind man, and despite having his face hidden, he seemed eager to do something worthwhile. Sniffles clenched his jaw, and before he could stop himself, he said, "Very well. Come on in." Toothy smiled in appreciation and climbed aboard. The Mole said nothing and followed suit. Not even a 'thank you.'

The next two passengers that arrived relieved his stress a bit more. Both were women, both carried duffle bags, and both were important pieces of the voyage. The skunk and porcupine approached Sniffles, one timid and the other confident.

"Sniffles! It looks like everything is going well so far," said Petunia, the skunk. Looking up at the boat, her face grimaced. "It could use a bit of a wash, though."

Petunia was a blue skunk, with a baby blue trail running through the middle of her hair and splitting her long bushy tail. Her hair reached her mid back and was put up in a high pony tail to keep it out of her navy blue eyes. Her facial structure and skin tone suggested she was of latino heritage. She wore a white blouse with a light blue drape coat, blue jeans, and white flats. Around her neck was a pine-scented air freshener that was usually meant for cars and tucked behind her ear was a pretty pink petunia. She was meant to help Sniffles with translating the language of the ruins they would be exploring. The problem was her OCD. He could already see her hands twitch as she looked over the grimy state of the ship.

"Well I wouldn't exactly say things are going 'well' to tell you the truth," Sniffles confessed. He looked back at the ship, watching as Mime attempted to communicate with the other passengers.

"Wh-what do you m-mean?" stuttered Flaky, the porcupine. He could see her large crimson eyes gawking at the size and state of the boat. Her long, messy, scarlet hair draped down her back. The mane was filled with hundreds of differently sized quills and littered with flakes of dandruff, causing it to appear quite bushy. Her pale hands fidgeted nervously with the sleeves of her red sweater, which seemed two sizes too big. Her legs, clad in baggy black jeans, bent inwards and shook in the stereotypical scared fashion. Sniffles smiled at her easy fright.

"Oh, Flaky, it's nothing you need to worry about," he said with a chuckle. While he would love to let out his frustration, he didn't want to scare Flaky off. She was his navigator, after all. They not only worked together, but were friends as well, and had been ever since high school. Despite this, nothing would stop her from scurrying of at the slightest hint of danger. It was believed she had some sort of anxiety disorder, which explained why she never wanted to be alone and was afad of meeting everyone Sniffles introduced to her.

He could tell she was cautious of believing him right away. Still, she nodded and went with Petunia aboard the ship. Only seconds later did he begin to hear the skunk begin to nag the captain about his cleanliness. That wouldn't turn out well.

As time began to wane for access onto the ship, Sniffles noticed there weren't many people left on the roster to account for. In fact, there were only three left. As he was about to climb aboard the ship, the saw two- no, three people making their way to him.

The first person was one he somewhat recognized, probably having seen her at one time or another. She was a lamb, no doubt about that. Her curly lavender hair fell across her shoulders in waves and her red-violet eyes shone with confidence. Hugging her body snuggly was a white wool sweater and her legs were hidden by a long mauve skirt. Tossed over her shoulder was a large bag, most likely filled with essentials. In her hands she held a large cucumber. Well, cradled was a better term, as she carried the vegetable like it was her own half-pound child. Seeing as she was a lamb, Sniffles presumed she was the "Lammy" on his roster.

The second person was a bear he worked with constantly, and was older and more experienced than any of the other passengers. With lazy latte-brown hair, droopy brown eyes, and somewhat tan skin, he didn't look all that professional. Not to mention his style of clothing would win an award for "laziest Sunday casual" and then some. He wore a plain white shirt, sweatpants, red slippers, and a matching red bathrobe that wrapped around his entire body. On his head, tucked between his round ears was a red cap and between his lips was a tobacco pipe, fully completing the stereotypical "50's sitcom dad" look. Speaking of being a dad, that's where the third person entered into the situation. Being carried by the hip was a toddler, most likely still in diapers. The child was like his father in many ways: the skin tone, deep brown eyes, the way his face would scrunch up at the heavy smell of seawater and fish. The boy wasn't so lazily dressed, though, as he wore a striped yellow/orange shirt, blue overalls, and a colorful beanie with a propellor. The only trait he visibly got from his mother was a tuft of auburn hair.

"Lammy, I presume," Sniffles said as the three came to greet him. "Pop, it's nice to see you here." He paused to give the bear cub a playful tickle to the stomach. "And you must be Cub! Your dad talks so much about you!" Cub burst out into a fit of laughter at the attack, forcing the anteater to retreat almost immediately. Wiping the nothing on his hands onto his shirt, he continued talking. "In fact, he talks about you so much, I was afraid he'd bring you onto the ship!" He looked up at Pop. "Which does require some explanation, if you wouldn't mind." The older man merely nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I suppose it does," he whispered, a strained sigh on his lips.

Sniffles looked at the baby. A puppy he could handle, but a baby? No. Absolutely not.

"Couldn't you have found a babysitter? A family friend? Parents? Anything?" Sniffles questioned, each inquiry interrupting the bear's chance to talk. Pop only shook his head. The lamb with them looked as though she felt out of place, so she was told to climb aboard. Now alone, Sniffles needed not worry about looking like a complete asshole.

"Seriously, Pop? You couldn't warn me about this?" he hissed in frustration. Pop gave another sigh and said, "She cancelled at the last minute! He had nowhere to go." The scientist pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, trying hard not to explode. He looked back at the ship, only to see some of the passengers curiously watching from over the railing. The last thing he wanted to do was make everyone think bad of him. Plus he needed Pop's help, as he helped Sniffles with most of the research and scheduling. He turned back to Pop, keeping his voice in a whisper. "You have supplies for him, right?" He was rewarded with a subtle nod. "Good, get onboard and speak with the captain. He'll find a suitable room for you and your son. Just please make sure he doesn't become a problem, okay?" This earned him a sort of glare, but he went onboard without a word. Not even a moment later, Sniffles could hear many of the passengers flock to see the child and give their comments of adoration.

Just. Great.

There was only one name on the list left, yet there was no sign of him anywhere. Sniffles began to worry over the missing person, but didn't panic. It was only one person and it was still pretty early. He was sure the man would appear sometime soon. However, after thirty minutes of waiting, he went aboard the ship. He didn't have time to wait. He needed to make sure everything was in perfect shape.

Most of the crew were already inside the ship, probably touring the rooms and cabins. The ones who weren't inside were mostly chatting with others. Noticing the way Giggles rolled her eyes at Disco Bear's flirts, he knew that some would get along more than others. Most of the cargo was finally moved to the hold. Russell, who was no longer munching on mussels, was giving information to Flippy about the ship and it's rooms.

As he was about to approach the pirate, he suddenly heard someone climb aboard. Sniffles looked over at man and went to greet him.

The man was a light blue flying squirrel who's hair was only a few shades darker than Sniffles' own. He was noticeably barrel chested with broad shoulders, something that didn't seem right in his white dress shirt and red tie. He wore khaki dress pants, black shoes, and a fedora similar to that of Shifty's. His hair was kept in a slicked, neat fashion and his cobalt eyes were framed by a pair of thick glasses. As the squirrel walked up to the anteater, he felt both intimidated by his large stature, heavy set appearance, and confident smile. However, he also felt the nagging tug of recognition. His face looked so familiar. Who was he? Had he seen him in TV before?

Sniffles gave a welcoming smile and was about to introduce himself, when the clipboard was suddenly snatched from his hands. His jaw dropped slightly was he watched the man read over the clipboard, before handing it back. "Uh... It's nice to have another member of our crew..." Sniffles said awkwardly. The man smiled and spoke in a voice that was deep and orotund. "Glad to be here. Now can you point me to the captain?"

Sniffles' brow was raised. "Well I'd like to know your name first, he said as he scanned for the last name in the clip board that wasn't accounted for. "You must be Truffles."

The squirrel's eyes flashed confusion and a bit of offense. "Excuse me?" he near demanded. "Truffles. It's the only name on this list that it's already marked present. You did sign up for this, right?" Sniffles questioned, becoming the confused one. 'Truffles' suddenly realized what he was saying. "Oh! Yeah, heh," he said, "Yup, that's me. Truffles... The squirrel." Without another word, he quickly walked off to meet the captain.

Well gee, that wasn't suspicious at all.

Sniffles merely shrugged it off. Probably someone just embarrassed about their name. At least everyone was here now. He passed by Russell, who was now talking to the man claiming to be 'Truffles'. He told him that everyone was here and was responded with a gleeful "Yar!"

Sniffles shook his head in annoyance, but decided to calm himself by looking out at land. It would be the last he'd see of it for about two or three weeks. He thought about the aftermath of the expedition, and how he would finally get the respect he deserved for all his hard work, research, and well planned ambitions. As he admired the sand and the was the water crashed into the land in foamy tides, he spotted something peculiar land next to him.

Next to him, landing gracefully despite the winds of the sea, was a butterfly. It was a beautiful periwinkle with streaks of blue painting the inner parts of the wings. It flapped its wings once more, but never took off. That's how he noticed that the insect only had five of what is supposed to be six legs. It was odd how a five-legged butterfly was somehow drawn to the ocean and onto a ship, but Sniffles thought nothing of it. He watched the insect flutter to another part of the ship, then turned back to the land.

"'Right, ye landlubbers. Everyone give yer best wishes to the land! We be headin' out to the water is a wee bit, ya hear?"

Sniffles groaned at the captain's dialect. That was going to get old. The pains of having to work with others. Nevertheless, he looked at the land, admiring its beauty for the last time before turning to face the ugly beast that was the ocean and walking into the ship and searching for his cabin. He looked over his clipboard once again, making sure everything was in order. He smiled as he reassured himself that everything would be fine. Nothing would go wrong, and he would make sure of that.

But he couldn't. He wasn't prepared for the horrors he would encounter, and he never would be.

The periwinkle butterfly, the delicate beauty that would soon serve as their only warning, gently flapped its wings and followed Petunia into the ship. Maybe it was attracted to the flower on her head or her smell of fresh pine. Maybe it was just natural curiosity. It doesn't matter. It was there, and so were twenty unlucky passengers, in for the adventure of a lifetime.


	2. Nice to Meet You

**A/N: This took WAY too long! I'm sorry. I promise I WILL finish this story! Expect sooner updates as time goes one. I apologize dearly.**

 **So quick note, these chapters will frequently change focus from one character to another. It's not all focused on Sniffles. Damn, that would be boring. Whenever you see this:**

* * *

 **It means we're changing focus. The focuses or in third person point of view, bit isn't omniscient. Whoever the focus is on, the wording may change to suit is thought or personality. For example: if the focus changes to Disco Bear, then expect a lot of 70's slang.**

 **This chapter is mainly for characterization. You know, to get to know everyone.**

 **I don't own Happy Tree Friends, but holy hell that would be awesome if I did.**

 **Get it? Got it? Good. Enjoy.**

Flaky sat in her cabin, nervously playing with the blankets of her bed. She listened cautiously the the people shuffling back and forth from behind her closed door. Her stomach lurched as the ship did as it left port. Many were up on the surface, watching the land drift farther and farther away from sight. She couldn't do it. She couldn't stand there and watch the safe, dry land move more and more out of reach. She closed her eyes, questioning why she even came on this journey. She could blame no one but herself. Blasted student loan debt.

She felt the beginning stages of nausea creeping up on her and taking hold. She hated the ocean. It was huge, it was unpredictable, and if the ship would start to sink, there was no way out. Land would always be miles off, and her swimming skills akin to that of a child barely in the learning process. She had even brought floaties. Of course, they were hidden at the bottom of her luggage, just in case someone happened to pass by and look into her bag. She had tried to convince herself that she would be fine without them, but her fear of drowning outweighed her fear of a month of humiliation.

Despite being inside the cabin, the sound of water splashing against the sides of the ship was loud in her ears. The slow, almost melodious rocking forced her to slowly lie down. This was going to be a long month, no doubt. Going to an unfamiliar country with lord knows what kinds of dangerous life, accompanied by mostly strangers, and with no sort of defense but the quills in her hair.

She had seen some of the other passengers, and boy did they make her shiver. The loud, quick moving green squirrel made her a bit nervous. She knew she shouldn't judge, but she couldn't help but fear the man was some sort of addict. The captain didn't feel trustworthy to her. From what she learned, pirates were thieves and murderers and nothing more. The blue squirrel that had arrived last was tall and intimidating. She didn't like tall and intimidating. It made her feel small and weak. The raccoon twins weren't much better; they made her feel like her cabin door should be locked every night. The army bear made her especially worried, as nothing was scarier than a man with military training. Who knows what he was hiding within that bag.

Flaky groaned in tense fear and muffled it with a stiff pillow. She would be forced to socialize eventually, but until then she was fine with hiding out in her small cabin.

Her door was opened. She shot back into a sitting position, anticipating whatever foul monster that intended to snatch her away.

But there was no monster. There was no such thing as monsters, she told herself. Just a lavender lamb holding a non-threatening cucumber. What was her name again?

"Flaky, right?" the intruder- no, lamb asked. Flaky gave a curt nod and let the woman continue. "Sniffles wants to hold a meeting out on the deck to lay down some plans and ground rules."

"M-meeting? W-we just took off," the redhead replied, inwardly cursing herself for stuttering. "We might as well do it now in case we need to turn around and drop someone off," she explained. Flaky nodded in shallow understanding and went to follow the other woman to the deck.

As they walked, Flaky couldn't help but notice how the lamb held the cucumber. Both of her hands wrapped around one end of the vegetable, holding it upright and tucking it close to her chest. Flaky found this odd and it scared her. Odd things usually scared her. Every creak, bump, and groan in her house was cause for investigation, every funny look was a warning to get out of the area as soon as possible, and every polite smile from a stranger held cruel intentions. A simple cucumber was far from threatening enough to warrant her own little investigation, but Flaky couldn't help herself. To her, mere ambiguity was more terrifying than any secret she could ever learn.

"I n-never caught your name," Flaky mentioned, clearing her throat beforehand. The lavender girl gave a knowing smile. "Lammy," she replied, "L-A-M-M-Y, in case were wondering." She glanced down at her cucumber, holding it a bit straighter. "And this is Mr. Pickles. Don't mind him. He can be a bit rude sometimes."

Flaky, beginning to feel those tiny droplets of sweat on her brow, looked down at the cucumber and back up at Lammy. Not a single hint of mischief crossed her face. Was that meant to be a joke? If so, Flaky didn't understand it. She only shut her mouth as the approached the deck.

On the ship's surface the crew were beginning to settle into a small mass, most paying close attention to the captain who stood tall upon a cargo box. He seemed to be in the first stages of a 'welcome aboard' speech, giving off a genuine looking demeanor of enthusiasm. The wooden pegs underneath him brought him to and fro along the strath of wood he stood on, not a wobble or falter in any step. He seemed to mean well as he spoke, but that thick pirate accent and butchered slang made him near impossible to understand.

"I be happy t' finally 'ave a crew aboard me ship," the otter said in a merry fashion. "Make yerself wecome 'n get comfortable. Ye'll be here fer quite the while. I'm an easy captain, but 'member yer on MY ship. Any backstabbin' play will get yer tail thrown 'verboard, 'stand?" Those who understood the pirate's words (which there were few) barely gave nods in response, as even the sudden change in subject tone caught them off guard. "Good ta hear! Now, 'llow me to set a few rules. The captain's quarters 're off limits. That 'ould be my cabin, 'course. Let be known I don't like no fussin' play aboard ol' Pearl here. Causin' trouble 'ill only get yerself-"

He cut himself off mid-sentence, turning to stare at Sniffles, who climbed atop the roomy wooden box. In his hands were a clipboard and a pen, his fingers impatiently tapping the later on the former. His eyes flicked up at Russell before looking back at his work as he said in a barely audible tone, "I'll take it from here." Silence filled the air. Russell was obviously taken aback. "'Scuse me?" Sniffles repeated himself, using the same nonchalant tone as he did the first time. The otter seemed more confused then offended, and without a word, shrugged and hopped off the box. A snicker or two came from the audience, but were hushed down when Sniffles turned toward the crowd.

Names were read off, with a pause in between each so he could spot the raised hand of each said person. It went smoothly as one would think, if not for a small hiccup in between Toothy and Russell (who was obviously there since he was the captain). "Truffles?" he had called, but there was no answer. He seemed confused as he scanned the crowd for the missing person. "Truffles?" he repeated, but still no answered. He adjusted the glasses resting on his nose and began to move on, when a hand shot up. "Here! Sorry about that. Here." A few more snickers and and an annoyed glance were thrown at a blue flying squirrel. Flaky got the intimidated feeling upon seeing the man's large frame. She'd be sure to avoid crossing his path as well.

"Alright, everyone," Sniffles said, calling attention back to him, "Seeing as we're all going to be together for a month, maybe two if we have any delays, I want everyone to be as comfortable as possible. The ship doesn't require high maintenance, so every day a group of four will be helping around keep the ship running. When you work will be determined by alphabetical order. Some exceptions may be made, just as Lifty and Shifty here have requested they be put together for any job. If you have a problem with conditions or the people you work with, them come to me. We'll settle the predicament."

He paused to glance at his notes.

"I am not one to tolerate misconduct. Give the team any trouble and you will be punished as I see fit, whether it be working harder or simply being missing dinner. I request that if plagued with any sort of condition or have special needs, you come and inform me about them. I want this expedition to go as smoothly as possible. And don't come to me with the obvious, either. If you're blind, refuse to speak, are missing limbs, or have a pet or child, trust me. I know."

Flaky noticed a few uncomfortable grimaces in the crowd. The handless beaver seemed irritated and the father bear looked a bit annoyed. But besides the people indirectly referenced, Flaky caught a glimpse of indecisiveness upon the military bear's face. The way he crossed his arms and furrowed his brow in an thoughtful and worried manner didn't set right with her. This made her worried. This man wasn't hiding something, was he? Was he really not supposed to be aboard the ship? Was he a felon? A thief? A murderer? Did he murder porcupines? Did bears even kill porcupines? They ate them, didn't they? Oh goodness, he was a cannibal, wasn't he? Why was there a cannibal on this ship? Sure, the possibilities of him actually being a cannibal were one in a million, but that didn't mean anything! Who needs statistics? That one millionth of a chance only assured her it was still possible! He could still be a murderer! It could happen! She wasn't paranoid!

She was forcefully brought back into reality be a tap on the shoulder. She looked over at the man. Did her eyes deceive her? It was the cannibal!

"Are you feeling alright? You seem a bit... frightened, if you don't mind me saying." The murderer look into her eyes- no, her soul!- with a worried glimmer in his own. Or was that malicious intent?

Flaky opened her mouth, but nothing came out besides a sound people only made when being strangled. The bear gave a confused stare, and after seeing that he was only making things worse, slowly backed away, giving her the occasional glance to check that she was alright. Flaky's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She forced herself to look back up at Sniffles. He was going on about getting comfortable with the other crew and trying to be as civilized as possible. Oh no, what had she missed? Was it important? Of course it was! He has a clipboard and a pen! Everything he said was important!

She wanted to just melt into the ground, but was worried by complaints she would cause if someone stepped into her puddle.

"Alright. Everyone be about your day. We will have dinner as a group when the sun sets. Curfew starts when the lights go out. Everyone must be in their rooms unless it's an absolute emergency. Meeting adjourned."

Flaky hurried to get back into her room, face still in tone with her hair. She dug into her bag and pulled out a small blue ball. She gave it a few squeezes, like her therapist suggested, trying to rid herself of her unreasonable anxiety. "You're going to be fine," she told herself. "No one is here to hurt you. You're not in danger. You're going to be fine." She repeated this process until she eventually calmed down. She felt safer. She still didn't feel safe enough to go outside again, but this was a start. "Take it slow. Don't push the situation more than you can handle," she whispered, repeating to words of her therapist. The dense fog clouding her mind began to dissipate with each soothing word.

Thinking clearly wasn't one of her strong suits when it came to nerve-racking situations (nerve-racking being anything involving her, a stranger, or an unfamiliar object/place. Or birds. Oh God, not the birds.) because of this, she couldn't help but be embarrassed by her own behavior. She squeezed the ball some more each time a memory flashed back into her head.

"You're fine," she whispered soothingly. "You're okay. Nothing is out to get you. Nothing could go wrong. You're just on a boat... made of wood... with a bunch of strangers... in open waters... _for a month_..."

Flaky began to squeeze the ball a bit faster. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Petunia looked around her cabin and smiled. Not a contented smile, mind you, but one of struggling pride. A smile you only get when you realize that you've done all you could, and while the end result was less than appeasing, at least you got points for trying.

Her room was disgusting, less disgusting now that she had spent some time cleaning it up, but still disgusting nonetheless. After finally getting rid of all the grime that dirtied the floor, she was tired. Her work was not over, far from over, but she needed a break. She needed a change of scenery. Something that looked more appealing than the ship she would be stuck on.

She exited her room and skipped up to the deck.

She knew what she was getting into when had signed up; it's a huge ship after all. She just wished the captain showed some into keeping his "Pearl" as appealing as its name. When she had first stepped on the ship, she knew she would have a hard time. Had she not known she wouldn't have been able to clean all of it, she probably would have rushed home and returned with a bucket full of cleaning supplies. The least she could do was keep her room as clean as possible, so maybe she would actually be able to get some sleep that night.

Upon feeling the cool sea air on her face and the smell of saltwater, she knew she would spend most of her time up on the surface. Moving to the railing, she admired the clean look of the glimmering orange ocean, a sign that she's been cleaning longer than she thought. Obviously the sea was anything but clean, but she wasn't planning on swimming anytime soon, so it didn't bother her much.

Watching the sun set behind the flat plain of darkening water, she heard someone step down from behind the helm that steered the ship. It was the mime she saw parading around the ship when she had first arrived. The deer seemed to be finishing off some invisible act, most likely tying rope to one if the ship's masts, had there actually been something in his hands. Petunia smiled at the clown's display of entertainment and searched around for whoever the show was meant for. It wasn't until then that she realized that she and her purple exhibitionist were the only ones standing on the deck. Everyone else must've been inside the interior, possibly eating already. Was the show for her? It couldn't have been, as he had seemed to be acting out his role even before she saw him. In fact, he didn't even seem to realize she was there. The way he wiped nonexistent dirt off his sweater and walked away with a skip in his step seemed to indicate a level of carefree attitude. Not to mention it didn't look rehearsed. Now _that's_ dedication.

Petunia followed the young deer back into the ship, trying to ignore the grossly apparent decay of the wood. She needed to keep her mind off the state of the ship. Company is what she needed and a mime seemed to be a good candidate. The mime finally noticed Petunia when she walked beside him, giving her a warm, welcoming smile and a wave of his gloved hand. And he did it like a normal person, not an actor.

"Petunia," she said, holding out a hand for him to take. The mime took her hand and shook it like she was the idol he's always wanted to meet. A giggle escaped her lips, amused by her newfound companion. However, the handshake seemed to be the only factor of his return greeting. Not a name left his lips. Enthusiastic, flamboyant, and dedicated to his job of being a clown. That was an interesting mix. She still expected a name, though.

"You work for the captain, right?" she asked, not wanting to ask the direct question. "What do you do around here?" The mime nodded, covering one eye and putting on an imaginary hat. Then he tilted his head and put both hands under his cheek, the universal sign for sleeping. The next pantomime was of him steering a wheel with soundless whistle on his lips. It took her a few tries, but Petunia was able to decipher that he steered the ship while the captain slept.

"So you sleep during the day then?" she assumed. Thankfully, there was only a nod. Yes or no questions were a must from now on. Well, there was one exception: she still wanted know his name. "You've got a name, right?"

The deer responded by pointing to his striped shirt. Okay, now this was bordering on the edge of annoying. There was no way he expected her to guess his actual name. This was more than just dedication.

"Stripes?" she guessed, looking at his shirt. The mime shook his head and pointed to his gloves and face. "Um, Clown?" He pointed specifically to the triangles over his eyes. "Triangle?"

"It's Mime."

Petunia stopped in surprise and looked over her shoulder at whoever had spoken. It was the blue flying squirrel, "Truffles" if she recalled correctly. "What was that?" she asked, turning to face him as the mime copied her movements. The squirrel smiled as he approached the two. "His name is Mime," he repeated, "and boy does he live up to the name." Petunia glanced back at her newfound companion, who waved happily upon noticing her. "He won't speak? Like, at all?" she asked, bewildered at the notion. She had thought it was some sort of hobby, not his lifestyle. A strange hobby it would have been, but at least it would have made sense.

Truffles removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. "Frankly, I don't think he can speak. He hasn't suggested otherwise, and I don't see why he wouldn't want to. Who gets aboard a month long trip with dozens of other people with no intention of speaking to anyone."

Petunia turned towards Mime, her curiosity now fueled to a peak. Despite knowing the flying squirrel had already asked the question, she asked simply, "So can you speak?" The mime in question only shrugged. "Well there you have it. He doesn't know," Petunia said, confusion and befuddlement apparent within each word. The squirrel merely shrugged, placing the hat back atop his head. "I assumed as much. He doesn't seem like the type to cause trouble, though."

Mime seemed to be a bit impatient with all this standing around, but still smiled on like he was with a couple of good friends. Petunia got the message, though, and the three went on their way.

"So are you a reporter or something?" Petunia inquired as they made their way to the saloon. This question seemed to set Truffles on the edge right away. "Reporter? Heh, what makes you think that?" he asked, his eyes flicking around the hallway, avoiding her gaze. Petunia gave an amused smile. "I don't know. The fedora, the note sticking out of the fedora, the pen tucked behind your ear and the notebook sticking out your back pocket all seem to give it away."

The squirrel cursed and hurriedly attempted to shove the notebook deeper into his pocket. Eventually he realized how much worse he made the situation seem and stopped altogether. Mime's figure shook in silent chuckle in front of them. "I'm a bad liar, aren't I?" Truffles asked, his shoulders slumped in shame. Petunia shook her head, trying to think of a better way to break it to him. "No, not a bad liar. Just an... unconvincing one," she improvised. Truffles thought this over. "So... a bad liar?" Petunia nodded in an awkward fashion, though she still smiled. "Yeah, kinda, but I won't tell anyone. Don't worry." The squirrel sighed and gestured towards Mime. "And what about him?" She merely giggled and said, "Don't tell me you expect him to tell anyone?" The two shared a laugh as they finally found the saloon.

The saloon was a bit crowded, acting as a sort of lobby for everyone to sit, eat, and chat. While there were a few who mainly kept to themselves, everyone else seemed to be trying to go around and meet everyone they could. It was a small crew after all, and Petunia felt like she was in high school again, as it felt just as awkward. Truffles and Mime said their goodbyes (Mime's being just a few odd bodily movements and a skip in the other direction) as they finally separated to fund their own little section of the room.

Petunia grabbed herself some food and looked around for Flaky, but unfortunately, there was not a single red quill in sight. She most likely took her food and went to hide in her room. The search for another familiar face, however, proved successful. Pulling a chair from another table, she took a seat with her friend, Giggles.

"Petunia!" the chipmunk squealed, getting up to embrace her. "Giggles! So good to see you again! How are you holding up?" Petunia greeted, pulling away with a grin gracing her lips. Giggles dismissed her question with a wave of her hand. "Oh, Tunie, don't you mind me! How about you? Lord knows how much of a wreck this ship is. I've seen landfills cleaner than this boat." The flower gave her friend an awkward but amused smile. Truer words have never been spoken, but she hoped they weren't spoken around the captain. "I've been managing... to say the least," she said, pursing her lips. "If that captain loves this ship so much, you'd think he'd take better care of it." Her pink friend seemed to agree, but when she opened her mouth to speak, all that came out was a squeak of excitement when she saw a certain yellow rabbit heading their way. "Honey Bunny! Over here!"

"Petunia! How's it hangin'?" called Cuddles as he approached the two women from the side. "Long time, no see, am I right?" Petunia smiled and gave him a hug. "Too long, Cuddles. Too long. It's good to see you two on this ship together. I would've never thought treasure hunting would be a good bonding experience."

Cuddles gave a playful shrug. "Eh, I'm just in it for the adventure-" he caught a glare from those hot pink eyes, "-And for Giggles, of course! Yeah. Totally. I wouldn't want her to go on this trip by herself. I'd miss her too much!"

Giggles twirled a lock of hair around her fingers and gave the rabbit a quick kiss on the cheek, only to be pulled back in for a much more intimate brush up. Petunia's eyes rolled in amusement as she went to give the two some room (though it was not like they were giving each other any) and sat at a table to eat.

Just as she was finishing up her meal, an orange beaver sat beside her. The armless orange beaver. Petunia couldn't help but gawk at the oddity, but still attempted to be polite and keep to herself.

"Landfills are cleaner than this wreck of a ship, huh?" he said, a brow raised. Petunia immediately began feeling her cheeks heat up in guilt. "Heh, you heard that?" she whispered, eyes flicking up to meet his. The beaver nodded, but didn't seem to upset by it. "Just don't let Russell catch you guys saying that," he warned. "Russell? The captain?"

The beaver nodded and took a sip of his drink (through a straw, of course) as he awaited a response. "He doesn't expect his crew to scrub down the entire ship, does he?" Petunia asked, trying not to be rude but still wanting answers all the same. She was met with an uncomfortable grimace. "Listen, I don't was you to get a bad impression or anything," he replied. "Russell's a great guy. Sure, he's a bit of a slob, but hey, pirates. What can you expect? Just give him a chance. He is the one steering the ship, after all. Plus it's hard maintaining a ship by himself. He's not one to really hire maids."

"You seem to be really defensive about him," Petunia noticed, "are you two close?" The amputee smiled fondly. "Close? Yeah, I guess. I work for him in repairing the ship. Whenever it springs a leak or gets a few holes. It pays well, and he and Mime are surprisingly good company."

Petunia smiled; whether it was out of pity or not, she couldn't say. It was kind of obvious that money from fixing the ship was the only money he could get. He was an amputee. She wouldn't hire him to build a birdhouse.

"I guess we should at least learn each other's names before we talk about other people. I'm Petunia." Handy didn't seem to like that lighthearted tone to her voice, as he seemed unsure and reluctant. "What? What did I say?" she prodded, worrying about offending him. The beaver only sighed. "My name is Handy."

Petunia quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Don't laugh. Don't you dare laugh. I swear to God, don't you laugh."

The skunk couldn't help but turn away, hunched over and trying to contain herself. "Hold on," she whispered through tight breath, "I'm not laughing, I swear. I just need a minute." "If you want to laugh, just go ahead." "No, no, I'm fine. I'm fine."

Petunia took a deep breath, straightened herself out, then turned to face the empty chair Handy had been sitting in. Said beaver was now stomping off in a dramatically grumpy fashion, stomping feet and all.

"What's his problem?" asked Cuddles, now making his way over to the table. "He's just angry. He thought I was going to laugh at his name," Petunia sighed, sipping her drink. "His name?" he scoffed, watching the amputee maneuver his way out of the room, all the while still trod heavily. "Come on, that's a bit overdramatic, don't ya think? It can't be worse than 'Cuddles'. What it it? Fluffy? Grumpy?"

"Handy," she said, trying to sound as passive as possible.

* * *

Pop bit the mouthpiece of his pipe in annoyance at the sudden rambunctious laughter coming from a yellow rabbit nearby. The whole room paused momentarily at the outburst, but it ended quickly enough. Pop's own attention was brought back by the little bundle at his feet. He flashed a fatherly smile at his son, watching him have quite the ball playing with his father's cap. He sighed contently, taking his eyes off his child to survey his table.

Across from him was the blind mole, who seemed disinterested in anything that was happening around him, and his beaver companion, who was warning the sugar-high squirrel beside him about the dangers of cavities. The squirrel in question only gave a giggle at the beaver's warnings as he downed a particularly sweet drink. Pop noticeably cringed at this hyper man's constant twitching, giggling, and half-whines; even Cub wasn't this energized after a few candies. Of course, the squirrel had consumed much more than just a few candies, as evident by the wrappers stuck to his coat. Even his hair clumped together in sticky strips, looking more like apple green colored thatch than actual hair. His ears twitched every so often and his tail looked like it was having a fill on seizure. Pop was genuinely surprised when the said boy was willing to offer up some of his precious candy to Cub, who's protective father almost denied in fear that his son would somehow contract diabetes.

Like Pop, the beaver seemed equally as wary. He mumbled something to the mole beside him, who only shook his head in a detached manner, his brow furrowing in either annoyance or overwhelming disinterest.

"So who's this little guy?" the beaver asked suddenly, pointing down at the bear cub playing under the table. "Cub," the older man replied, "and I'm his father: Pop."

"Pop and Cub, eh? Has a bit of a ring to it. I'm Toothy by the way." Toothy flashed a friendly grin, showing off the teeth that fit his name all too well. He then pointed to his mole friend. "This is the Mole."

"The Mole? Adding 'the' in the beginning makes it feel a whole lot more important," Pop pointed out. "Like a spy or something. Get it?"

The Mole merely drummed his fingers along the rim of the table, sighing into his turtleneck. Pop felt a bit gauche by the man's silence, but just assumed the man was just introverted due to his disability.

A moment of awkward silence hung in the air, filled only by the chatter of the other shipmates.

"And I'm Nutty!" The thatch-haired squirrel announced abruptly, startling the father and his new companions. The young man then gave a high-induced giggle before sticking a lollipop into his mouth. Pop's thin smile could only last for so long before a grimace graced his face.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, what's are a pair like you two doing here, anyhow?" he asked, turning his attention back to the purple duo. Bringing attention to the squirrel was the last thing he wanted to end on that night. Toothy gave his question a bit of thought, starting a sentence every so often but then cutting each one short after the first two words, as if thinking over how to word his answer.

"Well," he began after the third attempt, "we heard about this whole voyage thing through the newspaper and decided to get in on the action. For fun and whatnot. Plus, it'll look pretty sweet on my resume." Pop's brow quirked in a questioning fashion. He could believe Toothy would volunteer for fun, he was young and full of life after all, but the Mole? He hadn't known the two for more than five minutes, but he could tell the Mole was quite the antithesis to his partner. Just one look at the way his head rested lazily on his head and how his arms drooped in a tired manner and you aren't likely to think 'Now _that_ is the image of excitement.'

Feeling the painful grip of an awkward silence take hold, Pop decided to tell his story. "Well I guess I should explain why Cub and I are here, before people start asking questions about why a baby is on a month long voyage."

Toothy nodded, smiling all the while. "Yeah, that'd be good to know." The Mole continued to remain mute, but at least Nutty remained attentive, if not a bit distracted. "I'm a friend of Sniffles' father. I also used to be a teacher down a local high school, where we'd work together. And before you ask, I taught history at a high school, the classes were indeed dull and boring, and yes, the kids were brats. Now, I'd spend time tutoring Sniffles when he was younger and helped him put this little trip together. I was supposed to go alone but-" he paused to pat Cub's head and said in a somewhat tense manner "-the sitter cancelled. I couldn't find anyone else who would take him for an entire month in less than an hour, so here he is."

Nutty let out another crazed giggled, before silencing himself with his lollipop. He was paid little mind.

"So, I assume your wife is..." Toothy trailed off. "Divorced," Pop finished for him, "And luckily for me, I won the custody battle. Even so, I wish she'd lived a bit closer. I would've let the devil watch over him instead of bringing him along on this trip. She's one hell of a-" he cut himself off, looking down at Cub "- mean person, but a ship like this is no place for a child."

"Well I'm sure everyone aboard will be happy to help you and Cub here," Toothy said, smiling down at Cub. "Thanks," Pop replied, returning the lighthearted smile. He glanced over at the still silent Mole. "And if it helps, Mole, I'm sure everyone here is willing to assist you, as well. That is, if you need it. I just assumed since you're blind and all that you might-"

The Mole's brusque rise to his feet cut him off. The wool around his mouth and the glasses over his eyes made it difficult to tell his current state, but the tenseness of his stance and the white-knuckled grip on his cane was warning enough. As he had during the short-lived conversation, he never said a word, only jerked his head to the side. Toothy's expression could only be described at apologetic to Pop as he stood up as well and led Mole out of the room.

"Wow, talk about grumpy!" Nutty exclaimed, still gnawing on his candy. Pop only grimaced at the younger man's inability whisper.

Just as the Mole and Toothy had exited the door, another pair of men plopped themselves down on the recently vacant seats. Pop immediately recognized the twins from the deck. While they had been almost impossible to tell apart before, they now wore coats to help them stand out. The fedora wore a large duster coat while his brother had a black suit jacket, both left lazily open to match their style of dress: homeless accountants.

The brother without the fedora gestured to Pop's pipe. "Ya got a light?" he asked, his twin looking up expectantly as well. Pop nodded and pulled out a box of matches. "That I do. I don't suppose you're going to smoke outside, are you?" The fedora rolled his eyes. "Well you aren't setting much of an example, are you now?" He took the match offered to him and lit his and his brother's cigarettes before shaking the flame out.

"An old fashioned kinda guy, eh?" the fedora asked, taking a puff of his cigarette. Pop merely smiled in amusement. "Old fashioned? Says the one with the fedora. I haven't seen one of those since I was a child. On TV." The fedora's brother snickered, but he paid no mind. "Gramps, if you wanna talk old, then take a looksie at the disco freak over there."

Pop was able enough to ignore the fact that he was just called "Gramps" and bring his attention to the biggest 70's fanatic of all time flirting with a pink chipmunk. There was even a bit of dancing thrown in there. It was quite the sight to behold.

"So, do you two have names?" Pop inquired, bringing his attention back to the twins. "I'm Lifty," the hatless brother introduced, quickly followed by his brother saying, "And I'm Shifty." This raised a brow. "Matching clothing, rhyming names, same dialect; all you have to do now is talk at the same time and you'll f-"

"Can it, old man," they said in unison.

"Yup. That's it," Pop chuckled as he took a few puffs of his pipe. Lifty worked his jaw tensely, seemingly annoyed by the older man's poking fun. His brother, on the other hand, seemed to finally notice that Nutty was beside him, catching most of his attention with his odd twitching. "What's you're name, anyhow?" Lifty asked, resting his crossed arms on the table. "Nutty!" was the answer he got, despite the question being for Pop. Shifty gave Nutty a sketchy look. "You with this guy?" he asked Pop, who politely shook his head and said, "I just met him. And to answer Lifty's question, my name is Pop."

"Pop? As in dad? Figures. You look like the lazy neglectful father I'd only see in an old TV show," Shifty commented, his cigarette hanging limply from his smirking lips. The father only rolled his eyes. "Well you two don't exactly make good first impressions with your wardrobe, either. So are you two going to do my taxes, ask for change, or sell me drugs?"

This got a few chuckles from the boys. "What gives you that idea, Pops?" Lifty asked, blowing a cloud of smoke above his head. "Well for one," Pop said, leaning back, "the both of you wear gloves. Leather gloves. It's not cold out. You aren't planning on stealing anything, are you?" The twins gave each other the same identical mischievous look, before looking back at him.

"Us? Steal?" Shifty questioned, a face of mock offense.

"We'd never," Lifty followed up, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

"Well, we guess it depends..."

"Ya got anything _valuable_?"

The boys shared a sly grin and Pop's own amused smile faded away. He had the slight feeling that the two weren't playing around as they were before. Even when they were mocking, it felt more like an inside joke between them instead of playful sarcasm. All the same, Pop smiled and let out an uncomfortable "heh" while Nutty seemed to take no notice of the tension. "Well that's one more reason to lock my door at night," he said, still attempting to joke about it. The twins instantly burst out in laughter, which in itself made them out to be up to no good. And while "tee hee hee" was normally something he only heard on his son's morning cartoons, Pop couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated by it.

Eventually the boys quit their fits of laughter and grinned at Pop. " _Nothing's ever 'locked_ ,'" they said together, trails of gray wisps escaping with each word they spoke. The bear didn't reply. He didn't know how to respond to something like that. He just gave them the same stern glare he gave Cub when he wouldn't eat his vegetables. Luckily, they cleared things up for him by bursting into that same mischievous laughter they had done moments before. Lifty leaned over the table and gave him a quick slap on the shoulder. "We're just messin' with ya! We ain't gonna do nothin'."

Pop only responded with a uncomfortable clearing of his throat. Shifty rolled his eyes, before saying, "Pops, you're on a ship to a different country hunting for treasure with your toddler kid. Ya can't tell me you don't like breaking the rules a bit." Once again, the father didn't reply, using his silence as a means of answering the question. Shifty flicked the ashes off his cigarette, a thoughtful expression present on his face as he let smoke slip smoothy past his lips, instead of the routine blowing of clouds that most usually do. "Come on, there's gotta be something wrong with you," he muttered, more to himself. "Are you... A shoplifter?"

Pop was a bit taken aback by the sudden inquiry and shook his head in both confusion and denial.

"Did you cheat on your wife?" Lifty asked, his question almost directly after the reply.

"Of course not."

"Child abuser?"

"What? No!"

"You use prostitutes?"

"Lord, no!"

"Park in handicap spots?"

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Pop growled with an annoyed glare, "I'm just here to help a former student of mine."

Both raccoon dismissed his claim and continued to come up with scenarios as they threw their cigarettes on the ground and stamped them out. After a bit of musing, Lifty then snapped his figures in a cliche "eureka!" moment, thinking to have solved the nonexistent puzzle. "You're a gambler!" he accused, sharing the same shit-eating grin as his brother. This time it was Pop's turn to roll his eyes. "Like I said," he muttered, "there's nothing wrong with me!"

"Aw come on, Pops," Lifty prodded, most likely attempting to get on his nerves, "I'm sure you're a bettin' man. Ain't ya?" Pop felt his teeth begin to grind in annoyance and refused to dignify the raccoons with a response. They may not be thieves, but he still wanted them put away all the same.

"I am!"

The twins and the father all had their attention snagged by Nutty, who had remained silent before then, not including the constant whines and giggles he made. Shifty raised an with skepticism and amusement. "You?" he said with a laugh and a quick flick of his tail, "a bettin' man?" "I call bullshit," his brother chuckled. Pop could feel his ears twitch at the foul language. Nutty gave a near frantic nod as he have his lollipop another lick. "Yup! Hehehe, I bet you two a month's worth of ice cream the captain's going to roast Sniffles' hind by the end of the trip!"

This time it was Pop's turn to give a snort of laughter. He had met the captain, and while his missing eye and limbs would surely drive away a few onlookers, Russell was about as threatening as an aloe plant. Well, he's assumed so, at least. He didn't even think it was right to call him a pirate as he talked like one more than he acted like one. This was mostly evident by the fact that the base of his crew was an armless beaver and a mime.

"You mean the sea otter? Yeah right. You saw what happened at the little rally, didn't ya?" Shifty pointed out. "You're on," Lifty said, giving the squirrel a quick handshake before immediately retracting it an attempting to wipe a sticky substance off of his hand. "And by the way, we like chocolate," he finished with a sneer. Nutty only giggled and nibbled on his lollipop.

Pop looked up at the twins. "You know if he wins, he's going to bankrupt the both of you." The twins put on those sly identical grins again. "You know what, Pops, we think we've finally figured out what wrong with you," Lifty whispered, a mischievous. The bear rolled his eyes in renewed annoyance as he took another puff on his pipe. "I thought you two already said I was a gambler. What is it this time?"

"You're a bit absentminded," Shifty answered, leaning back and crossing his heels on the table. Pop brow raised. "And what makes you say that?"

"Well for one," Lifty muttered, glancing up at the ceiling in mock innocence, "you're little bear cub is gone."

Pop felt himself freeze. He quickly looked under the table, not seeing that two year old bundle of joy playing with his hat as he had expected. " _Shit_!" he swore, "Where the hell is he?" All three shipmates at the table pointed towards the other side of the room. There he could see Cub attempting to play with a lamb's cucumber, who watched him intently. Pop sprung from his feet and bounded towards the young girl to retrieve his son, ignoring the laughs of the three assholes at his table.

* * *

"Aw, come on, baby! You look like the type to groove," Disco Bear flirted, giving her a smile no babe could resist.

Giggles only rooked her eyes, her dainty fingers pressing against his chest and gently pushing, like she was afraid he was some jive turkey or something. "Sorry, Mr. Hairspray, but I don't appreciate people who judge books by their covers," she said, a sharp edge to her foxy voice.

Well, a smile he thought no babe could resist.

Now Disco Bear always knew when a lady was playing hard-to-get, and while her words only pressed him to keep on truckin', the funky looks of the yellow bunny beside her was starting to bother him. And they weren't the good kind of funky, he'll tell you that. He looked over at Cuddles, a little dude he'd just met, and flashed a smile to get the kid to mellow out. Instead, he abruptly stood up and began to get a bit too close, even for Disco's standards. It was at that point he decided to peel out, but not before flashing another smile at the primo priss in pink and jetting.

Disco was on a mission to get in the mix with every every babe aboard, and sadly there were only three: the chipmunk, the skunk, and the lamb. Since his cheek was still stinging from Petunia's slap, his eyes wandering until they came across the lavender lamb he was spying for. Now that was one well built brick house! Before he knew it, he was with the sheep and her posse, hoping to score a few points with the dudet.

"Hey, baby," he flirted once again. However, before he could drop another twitchin' pick up line, he was interrupted by her laughter.

"So, let me get this straight, you signed up because you thought this was a fishing trip?" she asked the blue-haired moose beside her. Also in her posse was the bear in the military outfit and none other than the boss-man himself.

The moose (Lumpy, right?) turned as red as a a beet and nodded with that goof smile on his face. Russell gave a hearty laugh and pat him on the back with his only hand. "Yar, lad, don't ya werry yer hide one bit! They'll be plenty a' fishin' out here! Tell ya what: if ya catch yerself anythin' nice, I'll roast it up meself." Now, Disco hadn't caught a damn word of that, but Lumpy sure seemed to get with it, as he grinned stupidly and nodded like he was wired off his ass.

Now, Disco had met Lumpy on the bus, where Sniffles happened to chill around the same time. He knew the moose was a few mirrors short of a disco ball, and it made him wonder why Sniffles even let him on in the first place. Sure, his enthusiasm, lingo, and just general happiness was enough to give Barney the dinosaur a run for his money, but he was still slower than a bunny on broken roller-skates.

It wasn't until they all stopped their laughing that Disco Bear was finally noticed by Russell.

"Yar, lad. Don' jus' stand there. How ya taken to me dear Pearl?" the pirate asked, gathering the other three's attention. Caught of guard and confused by the grit's talk, it took him a few moments to decipher what was said and give a grouse answer. "Yeah, I can dig it. How long have you had her?"

"Ah, Pearl here was a gift from me pal, Handy. Built me a new one 'fter me old sunk," Russell explained, only to get a few confused looks. "So why did you name her 'Blue Pearl?'" Lumpy inquired, somehow ignoring the whack things he just said. "Ah! Now that's a grand tale!" the otter exclaimed, leaning forward in his wooden chair. "Ya see, I once found a pearl in an oyster, and it was blue!"

"A good reason as any," the veteran chuckled, taking a sip from his cup. The sheep, who seemed unsatisfied by the story, tilted her head and asked the boss, "How'd you lose your legs? Or your hand?"

The army bear immediately put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head, like he didn't want her to ask that sort of question. Russell merely gave a laugh, though it wasn't as hearty or as gravy as last time. "Ah, lass. I'm too sober fer those tales! Maybe 'nother time, darlin'."

That immediately caught Disco Bear's attention. "Wait, you have booze? Funkadelic! Let's get some good vibes goin' on around here," he said, enthusiastic at the thought of a few drinks. He was denied almost immediately. "Sorry, as much as I'd like to, I'm savin' it fer the trip back." Gee, you would think a pirate would always have enough booze to feed a few cats for more than a month.

Russell got up from his chair, balancing perfectly on those wooden pegs like they were any normal pair of legs. "Don't look so down, ya lubber," he continued, "you look like ya need some fruit in yer diet, not grog er mead. Don' wanna get scurvy, now do ya? Now if yew'll excuse meh, I best be gettin' back to the wheel." And with that, he left the room.

"You don't think you could've been _a bit_ less insensitive, Lammy?" the bear asked the sheep. "What do you mean?" she replied. "Flippy, I was just asking about his amputations. He didn't even tell me!"

Flippy sighed, seemingly understanding her confusion. "That kind of stuff is private. What if it brought up some bad memories?" he pointed out, arms crossed.

"I'm sure you know all about that, huh?" Disco butted in, deciding to help Lammy out of a awkward conversation. Flippy worked his jaw tightly, thinking to himself. "Yeah, I know all about them," he confessed after a while. "A bit too much, if I'm going to be honest. I still get them to this day."

That last line kind of set Disco on edge, but he attempted to laugh it off. "Yo, you ain't a nut, right?" he half-joked. It seemed that the tension he was creating was apparent, as Flippy broke out into a smile and said, "Nah, I'm fine. Even when it's over, war just gets to me sometimes. But I'm not the only one who sticks to the past, am I? What's your name, anyhow? I'm Flippy, that's Lammy, and the moose is Lumpy."

Disco smiled at the veteran, deciding not to pursue the lowdown. "The name's Disco Bear, cat."

For some odd reason, Lammy quickly covered her mouth, her cucumber helping to obscure her expression. Flippy's lips twitched a bit, almost forming a smile, like he was trying to hold back laughter. "Disco Bear? Is that, uh, a nickname?" he asked.

Disco was confused, but shrugged his shoulder and shook his head. "Nope. That's my name."

"Like, on your birth certificate and all that?"

Finally catching on, Disco rolled his eyes. "Get bent."

It was then he decided to leave the turkeys while they were still laughing and settle back into his room. As he was walking back, he couldn't help but notice a blue butterfly fluttering in front of his cabin. Brow furrowed in confusion as to how the butterfly even got on the ship, Disco shooed it away with his hand, being careful not to hurt it. He watched it land on the wall opposite of his door. Finding it kind of neat, he let out a simple "groovy" and entered his cabin.

 **A/N: Like I said, this chapter was only to get to know the characters a bit more. In the next chapter, I'll skip a bit of time. And if you're a Sniffles fan, I'm sorry I portrayed him as a bit of an asshole, but it'll make sense later on.**

 **I WILL update sooner!**


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